


A Quiet Manor

by emeline_08



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bat Family, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, My First Work in This Fandom, Timeline What Timeline, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-11 18:29:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20158123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeline_08/pseuds/emeline_08
Summary: Bruce was preparing a party, but also must solve a mystery first: why has the manor turned suddenly so quiet?





	A Quiet Manor

**Author's Note:**

> HI! I got the idea for this fic when I was trying to sleep, lol, and couldn't stop writing aftwards. Normally I have thousands of ideas, but am too lazy to ever develop all of them. So this story is lucky to see the light of the day, I guess. I hope you enjoy it :)

“I shouldn’t have asked you to bring me here, Alfred. Maybe this wouldn’t be happening if only you stayed at the manor.”

“Master Bruce”, said Alfred, turning on the engine, “is that worry I hear in your voice?”

“No, Alfred. It’s intrigue.”

After they both buckled their seatbelts, they made their way back to the Wayne manor.

As Alfred was driving, Bruce couldn’t stop glancing at his watch. He had just interrupted a reunion with his board of trustees just because the catering service he had hired for a party he would throw this evening at the manor called him directly to try to find out why no one opened the gate to let them in and start their job. Besides, the telephone at the manor was dead and none of his children answered their phones nor were they online to ask them and find out by himself.

02:51 p.m. They were about to arrive home. The closer they got, his curiosity grew ever bigger, as he had told Alfred before. A normal business man would be furious to find out the preparations for a party that would benefit his reputation were delayed (of course formalities were his specialty, but not his priority at this point in his life); a normal father would be worried sick if he couldn’t contact his children when they were supposed to be available (in the worst scenario, he knew they were prepared to respond; each one of them was more than capable to take care of themselves and the others). He never regretted leaving them alone at home; he was just wondering what they were up to.

Behind the entrance gate a van, whose left side read “Gotham’s Catering”, was parked. As they approached the manor, the driver and his copilot got off the vehicle, eyes burning with impatience.

“Alfred, please go calm these men down. I’ll go find out what’s happening here.”

“It seems to me that someone shut the electricity off, sir. Of course it will be my pleasure to entertain these gentlemen while you force the gate open with the aid of one of your special gadgets.”

The men from the van were ready to complain, hadn’t it been for Alfred’s apologies, in which case they could do nothing but listen closely. By the time it was their turn to speak, Bruce had already crossed the garden towards the door, all formalities forgotten. After apologizing for the umpteenth time, Alfred followed him.

There were many advantages of being the Dark Knight, and one of them was that his eyes were more than used to adjust in utter darkness. Because inside both windows and curtains were closed, and indeed, the energy was completely shut off, so no light had any chance to sneak into the place. Additionally, the entire facility was dead silent−an eerie state to be on a Saturday afternoon. Bruce walked past the threshold of the entrance and into the corridor, and had opened his mouth to say something, but immediately Dick, who was huddled against the wall, shushed him.

“Dick, care to explain…?”

“_Shhh!_” other two voices joined Dick’s to shush also him, and Bruce had no other choice than to obey.

“_Can you please tell me what happened here?_” asked Bruce, this time whispering in a voice low enough so no one shushed him this time. Dick tiptoed his way back to the hallway, asking Bruce to follow him, not without first signaling something to a small shadow that then turned around and got lost among the darkness. Still intrigued, Bruce could recognize the silhouette of Damian before turning to listen what Dick had to say. However, the moment Alfred opened the door to enter, letting a bunch of sunrays to penetrate the facility in the process, Dick almost fainted.

“Sir, the gentlemen outside…”

“_SHHH!!!_” the same chorus of voices interrupted him, but it was clear they were growing pissed with each time someone broke the silence.

“_Don’t make even the slightest sound!” _said Dick, in the most low, barely audible voice he was capable of articulating. Bruce and Alfred’s puzzled face demanded an explanation, so he continued, taking care of not raising his voice more than necessary.

“_Nothing’s wrong, we all are fine. It’s just that Tim fell asleep in the living room. No sedatives, no pills, nothing. He just kinda sat with Steph and Cass to watch some TV and five minutes later he was already fast asleep. As soon as we realized it, we shut doors and windows so as to prevent any light to disturb him, and Cass even cut the energy off when the telephone started ringing.”_

Now that he mentions it, thought Bruce, the place was so quiet that if you paid really close attention, you could hear Tim’s gentle breathing. Then he proceeded to remember how much Tim had crossed the line these last days, how many sleep hours he had skipped, and how many cups of coffee he had ingested just to keep himself awake and alert. The case in which they both had been relentlessly working turned out to be a success, as usual, with the difference that this time never before it felt as if Tim would catch a serious disease because of the lack of sleep.

“_Sorry about the party, we didn’t let the men outside in; we’re just delaying things, but…”_

“_Where are the others?_” asked Bruce, watching out the volume of his voice.

“_Steph is stuck in the living room. She refuses leaving there since the soles of her new snickers squeak against the floor, and she can’t take them off because the Velcro fasteners are very lousy. Barbara is trapped in the Batcave. She can’t come out from the tunnel without looking suspicious and besides we have company outside. Cass and Duke are in the kitchen, preparing sandwiches for Jason, whom we left upstairs locked up with a packet of Oreos; he isn’t exactly silent when he’s hungry. He didn’t have lunch with the rest of us because he stayed in his room playing videogames, and by the time he came down to eat Tim was already asleep. Damian has taken charge of maintaining communication between everyone since he’s the quietest of us all and we had to turn our phones off; we couldn’t risk the screens waking him up. And I’ve stayed here, taking care of the door.”_

They were all highly trained boys and girls, capable of lurking in the shadows, quiet and agile, as children of the night are, so Bruce came to the conclusion that they were over exaggerating. Or were they? They might have also noticed how much Tim was neglecting his health, and that also worried them. He could only imagine the relief they should have felt the moment they noticed he fell asleep just when he needed it the most, and the pulse of anxiety that ran through them when they decided they had to make sure that no sound, no ray of light, and no movement woke him up: they were willing to not take any risks. He saw Dick’s stern face (this was serious business to him), imagined how hard would it be for Jason to endure hunger even if it was for a little bit, and for Stephanie to remain motionless, contrary to rest of them; he also saw the telephone smashed in the hallway’s floor (he deduced that Cass first got rid of the telephone, then shut off the energy). Even Damian, from whom he wouldn’t normally expect it, worried about his brother. Hadn’t Bruce turned his gaze to the stairs he wouldn’t have noticed that there was Damian, climbing the stairs really quietly holding a plate of sandwiches for Jason. Obviously he would never admit it. When questioned about the matter days later, he would reply harshly that he didn’t care about “feeding Todd or letting Drake get some rest”, he just did what everyone asked him to do, for this was just a perfect training to hone his ninja skills so he could easily roam the streets at night undetected. 

“_Sir?” _Alfred’s voice brought his mind back to reality. Of course they couldn’t stay standing there all day. There was only one right thing to do in such a situation: not to take any risks.

“_Yes, Alfred. Make the required arrangements to postpone the party, including asking the caterers outside to leave. Dick, when they leave, get Damian and have him tell the others to go outside without making any noise. I’ll go get Stephanie out of the living room. We’re camping in the garden today, and we’ll sleep there if necessary. Unless the signal appears on the sky, we’re not going on patrol tonight. I don’t want any of you to end up worse than Tim.”_

The quickest part was telling the men outside to turn around and head back to whence they came from. They weren’t so happy, but accepted willingly−they were paid all the same. Then, as Bruce had asked, everyone went out: Cass went to save Barbara, not that she complained, but was relieved to join the others after a while; Damian managed to restrain his laughter when Duke almost tripped over with the smashed telephone but that wasn’t a major inconvenience; Dick went to check out how was Jason doing, and was relieved to discover that having his hunger appeased, he managed to be quiet. And finally, Bruce gave Stephanie a piggyback ride out of the living room, taking also the opportunity to take a quick glance at Tim, glad to see him in that peaceful state after all the hard work he did these past days.

And so, as the rest of the Batfamily got to spend the rest of the day outdoors, having fun and relaxing, the Wayne manor remained sealed and quiet until next morning, just as Bruce had predicted.

*******

Next morning, before the sunrays were starting to light the sky, a startling scream woke Bruce up, and the others.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere like crazy! You scared the hell out of me! I thought you were abducted when I noticed none of you were around! And everything is so dark in there! For how long have I been sleeping?! What day is today?! And why didn’t any of you wake me up?! My neck is killing me!!!”

If only he knew, thought Bruce, how much effort was put into letting him rest peacefully. Sometimes that kind of ironies happen in life, but not all of them found it funny. At least not Damian.

“Shut up, Drake! Out of all the days you could have chosen for, you decide to be an early bird on a Sunday! You should know by now that no one cares!”

Bruce made a mental note to talk to Damian later. But for now, he let him be. He knew he was trying to make it clear once again that his brother meant nothing to him. Besides, Tim looked much more refreshed. Sure, a little confused and disoriented, but refreshed nonetheless.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reaching this far! I will accepct any criticism you may have for four reasons: one, English is not my first language (seriously, if you belong to the grammar police I want to hear from you); two, I'm relatively new to the fandom (I've read several comics and movies, but still I don't consider myself an expert); three, I'm still developing my writing skills (seriously, if the only way to be a good writer is practicing, I'm going to take that risk); and four, it's my first time using this site, so I don't know what I should do next, so I guess I thank you again lol :'v


End file.
